Opinion NCERT’s introduction to the Constitution is confusing. Young minds deserve better
The differential treatment of specific amendment and conflation of the formal law of the land with the informal artistic work risks blurring the understanding of the Constitution
Several stalls were set up at the venue, Sabha Bengaluru, by these groups in keeping with the theme, displaying exhibits on aspects of the Constitution. Written by Amita Punj
Flipping through the pages of my son’s new NCERT social science book for Class VII, I ran into the chapter titled “The Constitution of India: An Introduction.” It made me think about the clarity and consistency needed when introducing any new concept to young minds. Reading through it, I found both explicit and implicit contradictions that might create a blurry perception of the Constitution.
The chapter rightly starts with the basic question about what a Constitution is. It broadly describes it as “something like a rulebook for the country.” Further, it notes that the Constitution lays down the basic framework of governance, rights and duties of citizens, and at the same time outlines the goals and aspirations of the nation. Such a description goes very well with the general understanding of the Constitution, expressed in the words of German legal scholar Günter Frankenberg as “giving societies politico-legal form as an entity.”
Nandalal Bose and his team illustrated the pages of the Constitution with scenes from Indian history — from Mohenjo-daro to the freedom movement. Art historian R Siva Kumar points out that the illustrations appear to have been added later, and they present Bose’s vision of history.
However, while artistic representation may be viewed as an innovative way of engaging the students, to title these illustrations as “Some illustrations in the Constitution of India” is likely to confuse them. The use of capital “C” in the heading implies reference to the Constitution as the formal, legal document, and to state that illustrations are present “in” the Constitution leads readers to the unfounded belief that these illustrations were part of this legal document that the Constituent Assembly debated threadbare. What is intriguing is that the attribution of these illustrations to Nandalal Bose is not on the same page, but after a gap of three pages in the chapter. Contradicting the initial statement that the Constitution is a “rulebook,” the attribution claims that “the Indian Constitution is not just a legal document but also a work of art.” Presenting the informal artistic expressions as part of the basic law of the land destabilises that foundational declaration.
Conflating the formal legal document with the informal, illustrative artistic work creates confusion, especially when the scenes from Indian history embody deities. It projects deities as being an integral part of the law of the land, quite contrary to the duly recorded fact that the makers of the Constitution intentionally avoided any reference to God in the Preamble to the Constitution.
The Constituent Assembly voted against the amendment proposed by H V Kamath for adding “in the name of God” at the beginning of the Preamble. The arguments against such invocation included “embarrassment of having to vote upon God.” A Thanu Pillai, who proclaimed himself as a staunch believer in God, had argued that such an inclusion “affects the fundamental right of freedom of faith” as the Constitution guarantees liberty to “believe in God or not.” Reference to God, according to Hridya Nath Kunzru, contradicts the liberty of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship promised in the Preamble and inappropriately imposes a collective view on a matter that essentially concerns every person individually. He also implied that reference to God was sectarian in its spirit, which is quite contrary to the basic spirit of the Constitution.
Even if one were to dismiss going back to the original intent, as the method of interpreting the Constitution, the projection of specific deities as being integral to the Constitution does not align with the agreed text of the Constitution; since it is contrary to its foundational scheme. This contradiction is further exacerbated by a marked absence of any reference to freedom of conscience and the cultural and educational rights of the minorities in the chapter. The confusion emanating from this merger of formal and informal is reflected in the teaching methods in schools, where the prescribed book is not presented as the subject of deliberations but as a sacrosanct text.
Further, the chapter offers a differential treatment of the insertions made into the Constitution through the 42nd Amendment — the introduction of the terms “secular” and “socialist” in the Preamble — and Article 51A delineating the fundamental duties of citizens. Notably, the picture of the Preamble reproduced in the main text of the chapter displays the pre-amended version, with a footnote mentioning that these terms were added through the 42nd Amendment.
The differential treatment of an amendment and conflation of the formal law of the land with the informal artistic work risks blurring the understanding of the Constitution, which is central to our collective existence as a nation.
The writer is Professor at the National Law University, Delhi

